Some Kind Of Magic
by PinboardButterfly
Summary: They both were shunned for who they were; was it really a surprise that the two met? JackxElsa


**A/N: So sorry for the inactivity - I'm seriously late but here's a little Frozen / RotG crossover for you all following the craze last Christmas x It'll be a two chapter fic, maybe three if you guys like it enough. A lot of the scenes are from the movie with my own dialogue and a special twist; please leave a response to let me know what you think. Enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I literally own nothing uggghh**

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**FROZEN / RISE OF THE GUARDIANS:**

**Some Kind of Magic**

_Chapter 1: Similar Strangers_

She could hear Anna outside her door again; cautious, lilting tones singing to her through the wood. Elsa looked down at the palms of her hands, blue eyes wide and afraid. Surely she could talk to her sister? Make up some excuse for her absence? No, that would never work. One excuse would lead to another, and then another, and eventually Anna would suspect something was wrong. If only Elsa could shut her out; she was drowning in this guilt.

"_Do you wanna build a snowman?"_

The little princess sighed, her breath coming out quiet and shaky. Her parents had forbidden she tell Anna of her powers, and she fully agreed. She'd hurt her sister once – almost fatally, albeit accidentally. Who's to say it wouldn't happen again? She couldn't take that chance. Anna must never know her secret – it could kill her.

"_It doesn't have to be a snowman."_

"Go _away_, Anna!" Elsa snapped, the sound scarily loud in the icy silence of her room. Her sister's disheartened voice sounded quickly after.

"_Okay…bye."_

The little princess bit back her tears and clambered up onto her window seat, desperately looking for a distraction. Out past the panes of glass, the hills were blanketed in a heavy layer of snow and thick flakes fell in abundance from murky grey clouds that obscured the usually blue sky. It was early winter…and _oh_ how she wanted to build a snowman.

"No, stop it," she chided herself under her breath, fingers absentmindedly finding the wooden window ledge. Her gaze returned to the wintry scene outside and without even thinking a smile split her face. She loved the snow, the serenity, the beauty of it. Completely without warning a band of frost burst from her fingertips and coated the window sill in miniature shards of ice, glittering dully in the poor light. She gasped and removed her hands from the sill, her gaze landing on them once again. They didn't look any different – they never did. But she expected something to have changed, something to indicate_ why_ she held this magical power. Tiny fingers curled into their palms and she clenched them by her side, exhaling in frustration.

She was just about to turn away from the window and climb down off of the seat when a new pattern of frost began to take over one of the panes of glass, in the middle, down at the base. Very slowly, the icy image of a rose began to bloom out across the snow-speckled glass, complete with thorny stem and folded petals. Elsa gasped in amazement – she hadn't done this, had she? No, she couldn't have, she hadn't touched the window. But if she hadn't…then _who_?

She glanced about her room quickly, but as expected there was no-one there. She wasn't stupid; she could clearly see that the image had been done on the outside of the glass, but she still wanted to check. She peered out past the window panes once more, trying to catch a glimpse of something, _anything_, in the flurry of snow. She wasn't going crazy. Was she?

Just when she was beginning to doubt her sanity, a figure suddenly materialised, startlingly close to her bedroom window. He was a boy, in his teenage years – eighteen or nineteen, perhaps? She was only little, she didn't really have a good judge of age just yet. With a warm brown cloak slung about his shoulders and wrapped in a snug brown shirt the stranger wore brown breeches but, incredibly, stood barefoot. In his right hand he held a wooden shepherds crook, frosted about the middle, and his features were sharp. A prominent jaw line and high cheekbones pulled one's gaze to his brilliant blue eyes – not unlike her own. His hair was a ruffled, white mess, and his lips curved up into a tentative smile.

When she noticed him, Elsa's first thought was to shout for her parents and then promptly dive under her bed. But timidity was never in her nature, and she was ever so curious. This boy had powers, powers that were very similar to her own. Was he cursed? Or was he like her, and had been born with them? What else could he do? Could he make it snow, like she could? There was only one way to find out.

She raised a hand and waved cautiously, trying her best to smile warmly. It had been a while since her smiles had been heartfelt. He looked a little shocked for a minute, like he couldn't believe she'd noticed him, but then raised a hand and waved back. His smile seemed genuine – more genuine than hers, probably – and so she took a deep breath and hooked her fingers under the window latch. It was stiff from disuse, but she got it open eventually. A gust of icy air brought a flurry of snow down inside her room, but that didn't really matter. The stranger stood outside her window, inches away from vaulting the ledge and entering. But he didn't.

"Are you sure it's okay?" he asked. His voice was a little husky, and deeper than she'd expected. Momentarily distracted, she brought her mind back to his question. He really cared. He was giving her a chance to say no, to tell him to get lost. But she didn't want that. She wanted to find out about his powers. Surely she couldn't hurt him if he was the same as her? Curiosity overrode caution and she nodded twice in quick succession. He still seemed hesitant, so she backed up a little and beckoned him inside with a curl of her pearly fingers.

At last he climbed over the window ledge and helped her to push shut the window against the strengthening wind. When they'd finished, the room seemed suddenly empty. Her carpet and walls were patterned in a light layer of frost – something she couldn't seem to avoid. Bad weather followed her everywhere. But the stranger didn't look as if he minded – in fact, he appeared rather excited.

"My name's Jack," he told her suddenly, his wintry gaze finding her own. She nodded and tried another smile, but she couldn't be sure if it worked. He bent down so they were eye level, and sat down beside her on the window seat.

"I'm Elsa," she replied, feeling suddenly shy.

"I know," he chuckled. "'Princess of Arendelle'."

"Where are you from?" she ventured, settling beside him.

"One of the settlements up in the mountains, quite small, I'm not sure you'd know it."

"Probably not," she admitted quietly. There was a vaguely awkward pause, but Jack soon broke the still.

"You're the first person to have noticed me in while," he said, avoiding eye contact.

Elsa frowned. "What do you mean?"

For a split second it seemed as if he would tell her, but then he shook his head and exhaled. "Never mind, it doesn't matter."

She should have paid more attention to how he neatly sidestepped her question, but more pressing matters were on her mind. Before she could contain herself, she blurted: "Can you make snow?" before clapping both hands over her mouth in embarrassment.

Jack chuckled softly and leaned back against the window, staff twirling slowly in his hands. "Yeah, I can. And if I'm not mistaken, I'm guessing you can too?"

Sudden fear nipped at her insides. What if father found out that she told this near-stranger? Could she trust Jack? Her eyes found his and in that moment her anxiety melted away, the first time in a long time she'd felt some kind of relief. Of _course_ he wouldn't tell. Dropping her hands from her mouth, she nodded slowly, feeling gloriously unburdened by revealing this secret. Sudden rebelliousness flooded her, and she grinned. Not a fake, forced smile, like the ones she used when she was trying to convince herself – or her parents – that everything would be okay. But an uncontrollable, valiant grin that took over her whole face and lit her eyes with a defiant shine.

"Wanna see?" she whispered, flashes of blue already sputtering from her fingertips.

"Definitely," Jack nodded, genuine interest in his eyes.

Elsa leapt up off of the window seat and went to stand in the centre of the room, excitement bubbling up in her chest. Bursts of snow shot from her palms, sending thick flakes drifting endlessly from the ceiling and piling upon her carpet. She ducked a little and touched her left hand to the ground; immediately a spear of ice erupted from the spot, ascending until it reached just above her height before stopping. She danced around it, carefree giggles escaping her throat, and smaller, sharper shards of ice sprouted out of the original until it looked like a deadly, frosted tree. Spreading her arms wide, the snow falling from the ceiling slowed considerably, and she was able to pluck the prettiest flakes from the air to decorate this ice tree. Once the substitute baubles were in place, she dropped her arms to her sides and a final flurry of snow fell before stopping all together and leaving the air seem abruptly empty.

She turned to look at Jack for his approval. He sat staring at her small, crudely formed but undoubtedly pretty ice tree with a look of awe on his face.

"You've really put me to shame, princess," he said, and began clapping slowly, "and I haven't even shown you what I can _do_ yet."

Elsa giggled proudly, blushing a little at his praise. She'd _never_ been applauded before; everyone who'd ever seen her powers feared or scolded her – or both. She always had a secret suspicion her parents were afraid of her, but she would never confront them about it for fear of said suspicions being confirmed. But Jack – he _appreciated_ her powers, that what she had just wasn't a curse, that it was a talent. So why couldn't everyone else?

"I'm not sure how to follow that," Jack admitted, chuckling softly and rising from the window seat. "What should I do for you?"

Elsa paused. "Make it snow."

"That's it?" Jack asked, rolling his staff in his hands. "That's easy. I could try something more complicated if you liked."

Elsa shook her head, heart racing. "Snow first; I just want to see…"

"…If I was lying," Jack finished, nodding. "It's okay, I get it. Sure thing, one bedroom snowstorm coming right up."

With a wave of his staff above his head a blizzard began whirling down from the shadows of her bedroom ceiling, and she let out a delighted squeal. He wasn't lying! He had powers too!

"Something else!" she cried excitedly, eyes suddenly lighting up with an idea. "Oh! Oh! Let's build a _snowman_!"

A sharp pang of guilt ran through her suddenly, that she should be saying that to Anna, but the thought and accompanying feelings were thrown from her mind as Jack brought together a cloud of snow and very quickly a snowman formed, although missing his essential clothing. Elsa, utterly overjoyed, giggled enthusiastically and ran to her cupboard to find the snowman's accessories. Dragging out a deep blue cap and matching scarf she tossed them to Jack, who slung the scarf about its neck and placed the hat down on its head, before turning back to catch more items of clothing from Elsa. Soon the snowman was complete with a woollen winter coat and mittens on stick arms (fetched quickly from the fallen tree branches outside Elsa's window). Buttons made its eyes and mouth, while a larger one was substituted for its nose, since there were no carrots to hand. When it was complete, Jack and Elsa stood back from their creation and beamed from ear to ear.

"He's perfect!" Elsa giggled, overwhelmed by just how pleased she was. In the space of one afternoon she'd made a friend and built a snowman – two very monumental accomplishments for an eight year old girl.

"Well, little princess," grinned Jack, turning to face her. "What shall we do next?"

Elsa sighed happily. The possibilities here were _endless_.

By the time she was safe in bed that night, she knew nearly everything about Jack Frost. After numerous snowmen (they had a whole _family_ now) and a few playfully rough snowball fights, Elsa and Jack were exhausted and spent the remaining daylight discussing more serious topics. Elsa discovered the circumstances of how he obtained his powers, of what he'd meant earlier when he'd told her that she was the first person to have noticed him in a while, his immortality, and how he'd been as desperate as she had been about him to know of her powers. He told her that people had to believe in him in order for them to see him, so when her parents had visited with her dinner he could stay with her but remain unseen.

"No-one knows I even exist," Jack had sighed, "so how could they possibly see me? The only reason you knew I was here was because I drew you that rose on the window."

Anna called for her later, too, and Elsa returned Jack's questions about her sister as best as she could. As selfish as it sounded, she just wanted to forget about Anna and her parents for a while – Jack brought some kind of magic with him, and she was desperate for it to last. They understood each other, understood what it was like to be shunned by people – although their definitions of shunned weren't exactly the same. When he scooped her up in his arms and twirled her around the room it was easy, natural, like they'd known each other forever. Darkness soon crept into her room and Jack had to put her to bed (despite her despairing pleas for more fun and games), just in time for her parents to come in and kiss her goodnight. Once they left, Jack settled himself beside her on top of the covers and ruffled her creamy white locks affectionately. Too tired to protest at her now messy hair, she simply curled up against him, utterly spent. He stiffened suddenly, nervous; completely unused to such intimate human contact. But as she drifted off to sleep, Elsa felt him relax and his arm drop from the pillow above her head to settle around her shoulders.

"Goodnight, Jack," she murmured, smiling sleepily as her eyelids sank shut.

He returned the smile. "Goodnight, little princess."


End file.
